Life Ain't So Bad
by Rowena DeVandal
Summary: Takes place during Logan's coma after Liberty Island in the first movie, ripping off It's a Wonderful Life in the process. By NO means warm and fuzzy like that movie!  Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1  A Life for a Life

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone! Yes, this is yet another story by me, unrelated to my main series...i know what my faithful readers are thinking..."What the heck are you doing writing stuff that doesn't have to do with the other stuf?" Well, the truth is, i've been tinkering with this for a while now...since November, actually...and it's served to help me work out stuff that didn't fit with the other stuff...:) This story was inspired by a conversation i had with my buddy Dee (MidLifeCrisis here at FFN...if you haven't read her stories, GO! NOW!) over AIM one night, where we speculated what could have happened in Logan's mind while he was out after the Liberty Island incident...she mentioned "It's a Wonderful Life" and i thought to myself "I can work with that!" So, here it is:)

For all of you out there who also read the comics, my apologies for explaining so much of what you already know...but since LOGAN doesn't know these things, they had to be explained...:) Also, some portions of this story refer back to the prose novelization of the outstanding "Wolverine: Weapon X" miniseries (once again available in graphic novel form, yay!), but i'll make sure to point out exactly when that happens...but this does take place in the movieverse, so adjustments had to be made...lastly, i only have room in my documents thingy to upload one chapter of this at a time (the rest is taken up by the aforementioned other stuff), so i'll update this as i make room...it's very short though, only 4 chapters, so it won't take long...:)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the X-Men or any of the stuff relating to them...Marvel and 20th Century Fox own all of that...i am making no money and simply borrowed their characters and settings for my own amusement...however, there is an OC in here named Jim that i DO own, but that's it...he's not even a mutant, so he's not really worth the bother...but he is the annoying sort, so i suggest you keep away from him or else he's bound to turn up and haunt you...:)

* * *

**Life Ain't So Bad**

**By**

**Rowena DeVandal**

**Chapter 1: A Life for a Life**

My heart was poundin' in my chest when I cut through the cuffs that bound Rogue to Magneto's damned machine. The skin on her palms ripped away when I removed her hands from the handles, like the metal had bonded to 'em. I shook her gently, tryin' to get a response but she didn't even seem to be breathin'. Some fuckin' protector I turned out to be. I didn't know what else to do, so I took off my glove an' pressed my hand to her face, hopin', _prayin'_, to feel that weird pullin' sensation that meant she was drawin' my healin' factor outta me, but nothin' happened. I closed my eyes an' tried to will it to happen, but it didn't help.

I felt somethin' then, a kind o' ache in my chest that I wasn't familiar with. It just wasn't fair, damn it! This kid had her whole life ahead o' her an' here I was, feelin' 'bout a hundred years old an' I couldn't die if I tried. After a few moments, I moved my hand an' pulled her close to me. 'Jesus kid, I'm sorry,' I thought, knowin' she couldn't hear me, buy sayin' it anyway, 'I tried, I really did.'

Suddenly, it happened, the pull, but it wasn't like before. Last time, it felt like somethin' was slowly drawin' the life outta me, kinda like what I imagine bleedin' to death might be like. This time, it felt like someone had just shoved a fire hose valve in my jugular an' opened it all the way. I felt every cut I'd taken in my fight with Sabretooth, the punctures in my chest an' back open up again. I felt somethin' warm trickle down the inside o' that silly fuckin' suit an' I realized it was blood, _my_ blood. I hadn't bled like that in so long, I forgot what it felt like. It seemed like forever, but I heard Rogue gasp an' she pushed me away. I fell down on the floor o' that damn machine an' everythin' went black.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Jean, you've done all you can for now," Professor Xavier said. "The rest is up to him."

"I know, Charles," She replied with a sigh. "I just don't understand what's happening here. His healing factor…why isn't it working?"

"I wish I could tell you." He looked over at Logan, not quite believing that the seemingly indestructible man was laid out, just this side of a corpse. "I know you don't want to bother her, but perhaps Rogue could tell you."

"How would she know?"

"Well, she did just absorb most of Logan. His memories are most likely still very fresh in her mind. Since we can't ask him, ask her."

"You're right," she said with a nod. "I'll go do that in a few minutes." The Professor patted her hand, then thumbed the control on his chair and glided out of the infirmary. Jean gazed down at the man laying on the table, a man who was a bundle of contradictions. The brief glimpse she'd had of his mind showed her pain, fear and horror, yet he'd risked his own life to save a girl he barely knew. He was cocky, rude and belligerent, yet the gentleness he'd shown with Rogue…yes, Logan was definitely a very complicated man.

She adjusted the flow on his I.V. and checked the EKG one more time. She reached over and briefly caressed his whiskered cheek. "Logan, if you can hear me, please come back," she whispered, but there was no change. Drawing her hand away, she left the infirmary and went on a search for Rogue.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Next thing I remember, I was floatin' in this kinda gray foggy place. I could kinda hear voices, sounded like Jean an' the Professor, but I couldn't make out what they were sayin'. I just let myself drift along an' I thought to myself 'this must be what dyin' really feels like'. That little taste Rogue gave me before was nothin' like this. I just felt…peaceful. It would be so easy to just let go, let the nightmares stop, let it all just…stop. I closed my eyes, thinkin' that maybe I could finally rest.

I don't know how long I drifted like that, but I realized after a while that I wasn't alone anymore. I opened my eyes an' there was this skinny guy standin' there lookin' at me like I was the world's biggest idiot. "Hello Logan."

"Who the hell are you?"

He shrugged. "You can call me Jim."

"Great. Now leave me alone, I'm tryin' to die here."

"I know. That's why I'm here."

I scowled at him, but he didn't seem impressed. "Dahell you talkin' 'bout?"

"Logan, I can't lie to you. Not only do you always know when people are lying, it's something that simply can't be done in this place."

"An' where exactly are we? Heaven?" I snorted. "An' I thought that bullshit Xavier told me before was the stupidest thing I ever heard."

"No, this isn't Heaven, Logan. It's…kind of like a waiting room."

"So what, no pearly gates? No Saint Peter lookin' down an' tellin' me my kind ain't welcome here, try the other place?"

"It's not like that. When people die, they're not weighed, measured or judged in any way. Heaven is what you make it, so is hell. But every so often, someone comes along before they should and that's where I come in."

"So what, are you s'posed to be God or somethin'?"

"No, I already told you, my name's Jim." He uncrossed his arms and glared at me. "God, like heaven, is what you make it. I'm not here to debate religious philosophy with you, Logan, I'm here to show you why you can't die right now."

"Why not? Why should I go on? Every damn thing I touch goes to shit anyway. Promised to protect that little girl an' what happens? Not five minutes later she's kidnapped by a helmeted psycho an' used to try an' kill a bunch o' people. I got nightmares I can barely remember 'bout somethin' a bunch o' military guys did to me an' oh yeah, I'm a fuckin' _mutant_. So tell me, what's so great in that life that I should go back to it?" I shook my head an' closed my eyes, done with this asshole. "I'll tell ya, nothin'. So piss off an' let me die. World'll be better off."

"Sorry Logan, but I can't do that."

He grabbed my arm an' my eyes flew open. "What the…" Before I could finish, everythin' started swirlin' 'round me an' we were fallin'.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Rogue, can I talk to you for a minute?" Jean found the girl sitting in the lounge, scowling at a hockey game on the television. When she made no indication that she noticed the doctor, Jean simply sat down next to her. "So, who's winning?"

Rogue grunted and took a swig of her soda. "Anaheim. Dahell kinda name is 'The Mighty Ducks' for a hockey team anyway?"

Jean raised a hand to cover her smirk, swallowing the laugh that threatened to escape. "So, you a big hockey fan?"

"Nah, not really. But Logan is, so here I am." She drank the last of her soda and set the empty on the end table next to three others just like it. "At least it kinda makes sense now."

"I'll bet." She watched the action on the screen for a few minutes, wondering how to broach the topic. "So Rogue, about Logan…"

"How is he?"

"The same." She looked down at her hands, hating the feeling of helplessness that was overwhelming her. "I was wondering if I could ask you something, about his healing factor."

"You wanna know why it ain't workin', right?" Jean nodded and the teenager grabbed another soda from the pack on the floor between her feet. She cracked it open and took a swig before continuing. "Well, I was pretty much dead, ya know. Thought 'bout just lettin' go, ya know? I mean, what kinda life can I have if I can't even shake someone's hand?"

"Rogue, you know once we figure out how your mutation works…"

The girl waved her off. "I know, whatever. But if you ain't been there, been that close to everythin' just bein' over, you don't know what it's like, how simple it seems." She sighed and took another long drink. "This would be better if it was a beer."

"That's Logan talking, isn't it?"

Rogue nodded. "Yeah. Still true, though." She glared at the game on the television again, seemingly offended by the action. "Anyway, so there I was, dyin' an' the next thing I know, there's Logan an' the thought in his head was 'Jesus kid, I'm sorry', but I couldn't figure out for what. It wasn't so bad, ya know? But I could feel his healin' thing goin' all through me an' I couldn't make it stop. I opened my eyes an' there he was, lookin' half-dead himself. I pushed him away as soon as I could, but I think it mighta been too late." She leaned over with her elbows on her knees and swirled the soda around in the bottle. "I just wanted to kick his fuckin' ass so bad for doin' that…" She trailed off and took another drink.

"Rogue, it's not your fault."

"Yes it is, damn it!" She shouted, springing to her feet, fists clenched at her sides in the same way Logan would have. "I shoulda never left the school! I shoulda talked to you or the Professor, hell even Logan! But no, I had to do the stupid, dramatic teenager thing an' run off like a fuckin' idiot!"

"Rogue, calm down…" Jean soothed, standing slowly.

"No, I won't calm down!" She stalked towards the stairs, but paused before mounting them. "Ya wanna know why Logan ain't wakin' up? Why his healin' thing ain't workin'?" Jean nodded mutely. "He ain't comin' back cuz he thinks he don't deserve to live. He thinks he's a damn monster 'cause some people thought cuttin' him open an' makin' him into a weapon was a good idea. But the worst part? He thinks he mighta been a monster all along anyway an' that's why he don't remember nothin'." Tears were streaming freely down the girls' face so Jean took a tentative step forward, but Rogue backed up. "He ain't wakin' up 'cause he don't want to." She whirled around and ran up the stairs.

Jean sat heavily on the couch, the television still playing the hockey game, and buried her face in her hands. She could heal Logan's body, but how would she ever heal his soul?

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Next thing I saw, Jim an' I were standin' on the lawn o' the biggest fuckin' house I've seen next to Xavier's. Somethin' 'bout it was vaguely familiar, but I couldn't figure out why. "What is this place?"

"Don't you remember?"

I snorted bitterly. "Ya know so damn much 'bout me, you should know the answer to that."

"Yes, your mind is pretty messed up buddy." He started walkin' an' since he was the one that knew his way 'round, I followed him. "This, my friend, is where it all began."

"Whattaya talkin' 'bout? I never been here."

"Actually, you have. Here, I'll show you." He kept walkin' towards the house, past a huge hedge maze in the front, all the way up to an' _through_ the front door. I stopped dead, wonderin' how the hell I was s'posed to get in now. A second later, his head poked back out like that kid Kitty back at Xavier's. "You coming?"

"It's a door, bub an' I ain't a ghost or whatever you are."

"You are so very observant. Yes, it is a door. But we're not really _here_ here, so you can walk right through it."

I glared at him, but tried it anyway. Sure enough, I went right through. "Whoa."

"It's a trip, isn't it?" He grinned at me an' I just shook my head. He walked to the center o' the entry hall, spread his arms an' turned 'round. "Welcome home, Logan."

"Home?"

He nodded. "Yep. You were born here."

I looked 'round the place. It was old, built in the 1800's from the way it looked. I could hear voices in a nearby room, so I went in search of 'em. I went through a doorway on the left o' the entry hall an' saw a little boy 'bout four years old playin' with a toy horse an' cart on the floor, an old lady dressed like a maid nearby. She was talkin' to the kid while she worked, but he wasn't really payin' attention. A few seconds later, a man walked in followed by another one, much older. The younger o' the two sneaked up on the kid an' caught him up in a huge bear hug. "How's my little James today?" He said over the kids' squeals.

The older man scowled. "John, you're going to make the boy soft, treating him that way."

"Father, he's only four years old. I think we have plenty of time to make a man out of him."

The grandfather grunted an' strode over to a huge desk that sat near the floor-length windows. "I am certain you've noticed that young James here does not have your first son's…resilience."

John rolled his eyes an' turned on the old man. "Father, please let's not talk about him, ok? We don't know what happened to him." He looked down at his younger son sadly. "He was such a strong swimmer…" He shook his head, an' put the kid down. "But he's gone now. James will be fine, the doctors all say he'll outgrow all of these problems."

Jim came up beside me an' put his hands behind his back. "Recognize anything?"

"Why the hell should I? What year is it here anyway?"

"Eighteen ninety-three, unless I missed my mark."

"Bub, that was over a hundred years ago. How the hell am I…oh no, you ain't sayin'…are you?"

He placed a hand on my shoulder to steady me. "I am, Logan. That's your grandfather," he pointed to the old man, "your father and you."

I approached the kid an' his father, lookin' for somethin' familiar, some part of 'em that reminded me of me, but they were so very different. "How? Jim, what the hell're you playin' at? Is this some kinda telepathic trick?"

"No, no tricks, I promise." He came up beside me an' smiled at the boy. "You were such a cute little thing. What happened?"

"Fuck you, Jim."

"Come on, there's more I want to show you." He took my arm an' led me outta the great room with its huge windows an' marble floors. None of it was even a little bit familiar, nothin' sprang to mind, and yet…it did feel kinda right. If this was some kinda hallucination, I sure wouldn't have dreamed myself a beginnin' like this. Streets o' Vancouver, sure, but the lap o' luxury? Never in a million years. I let Jim lead me back outside an' into the hedge maze. As we got further in, I could hear the sound o' someone trimmin' the hedges. We went 'round a corner an' stopped. "This is the gardener and groundskeeper for the Howlett estate."

"Howlett?" So that's my real name, eh? James Howlett? Hell if I know. I've been Logan for so long, nothin' else really sounded right. I looked at the man closely, then back to Jim.

"Yep. His name's Thomas Logan." I jerked my head 'round. Was this guy really my father an' the man inside didn't know? "Oh, don't worry, we'll explain that later. Tom here's got a son about your age. No one knows his real name. Mostly, people just call him Dog."

"Ya sure that kid ain't me an' the one up there's someone else?"

"Positive." We left the maze an' when we came out to the front o' the house, a carriage was pullin' up, a man bringin' a pretty little girl with red hair. I noticed the air felt different, cooler. "Yes, we've moved forward in time a bit, quite a bit."

I looked at the little girl as the man helped her out of the carriage. Somethin' 'bout here was familiar, like I should know her but I didn't. "Who is she?" I whispered, almost fearin' the answer.

"Her name's Rose. Your father brought her here to help take care of you, sort of like a nanny."

"Where's my mother?" In all this time, he hadn't even mentioned her.

"That's a bit…complicated. After your brother died – you were only two, so you don't remember him anyway – she went a little crazy."

"Finally, a family resemblance," I muttered.

Jim scowled at me, but continued. "She's around, but she keeps to herself mostly, stays in her room. Sometimes she comes out on her balcony for a little air, if you can catch her."

He continued to walk, but I was already over this shit. "Jim, none o' this means a damn thing to me. Can't ya just let me go?"

"No, I can't. There's no sense in telling you where you're going if you don't know where you've been."

"You get that from a fortune cookie?"

He laughed. "You are a very funny man, you know that?" I glared at him, but he just laughed again. "Do you want to see this or not?"

"Not."

"Good thing that was a rhetorical question." Reality, or whatever this place was, shifted again an' it was the middle o' the night. I could see Tom Logan an' his son sneakin' 'cross the lawn, both of 'em carrying shotguns. They climbed up the trellis near the balcony Jim had shown me before, my mother's balcony, an' jimmied the lock on the windows. Next thing I know, we're up on the balcony lookin' in as Tom Logan tried to grab the woman who must have been my mother. She screamed an' my father came runnin' in. They struggled for a bit, an' I watched as the little boy – now 'bout thirteen years old – came into the room just as my father was knocked to the ground an' I heard a gunshot.

What happened next happened so fast I almost missed it. The boy that was s'posed to me screamed, but it quickly turned into a howl of rage. I jumped a bit, startled, when three six-inch bone claws came burstin' through the kids' hands an' he slashed Tom Logan to shreds. The other boy, Dog, came runnin' over an' he slashed him too, right across the face. The boy, James, screamed again but this time it sounded more like horror, somethin' I'm familiar with, an' ran out.

"Hey Logan, you ok?" Jim asked, but I wasn't. I was shakin', rubbin' my hands – especially between the knuckles – an' I could tell I was pale. "Logan?"

"Are you sayin' I always had these…these…things?" I whispered.

He looked down, shiftin' his feet. "Uh, yeah actually." He shrugged. "Sorry."

"For what? Cuz I've always been a fuckin' monster?"

He turned on me then, his eyes hard. "Logan, you have been many things in your life, but a monster is not one of them, do you hear me?"

"How the fuck can you say that? I thought…damn it, Jim!" I popped my claws – which strangely didn't hurt here – an' waved 'em in his face. "I thought these were somethin' that was _done_ to me! An' you're standin' there tellin' me they've always been here!" I retracted an' scrubbed my face. "I'm a bigger freak than the rest of 'em."

Jim grabbed me by the shoulders an' shook me, which he didn't appear strong enough to do, lookin' more pissed off than anythin' I've ever seen. "Will you get this through that adamantium plated skull of yours! You are _not_ a monster, or a freak, you hear me!" He gave me a shove an' I fell right on my ass.

"Are we lookin' at the same shit here? Cuz I coulda swore I just saw some kid – which you claim is me – kill a man in cold blood with the fuckin' claws comin' outta his hands. How can you stand there an' say I ain't a monster?"

"That man you killed had just been a party to your father's murder! I hardly think that constitutes 'cold blood'!" He frowned at the scene of carnage then closed his eyes, an' we were back out in front o' the house. "Do you want to know what would have happened if you hadn't done that?" I didn't, I really didn't, but I found myself noddin' anyway. "Tom Logan, after your father was dead, he killed the maid, the butler _and_ Rose, then kidnapped your mother. Six months later, her body washed up on the banks of a river about seventy miles from here. A few months after that, the brutally beaten and raped body of an eleven year old girl was found in a ditch three miles from where Tom Logan was living. Three weeks later, when the local sheriff came around to ask if he knew anything about it, Tom got caught red-handed with a twelve year old girl, who would eventually succumb to her injuries. With such a clear-cut case, Tom was hanged for his crimes." He walked over an' stood in front o' me, crossin' his arms. "You saved those little girls, Logan, whether you knew it or not."

"But…my mother. What about her?"

Jim pulled a face an' sat down next to me. "Well, nothing was going to save her either way. See, it turns out your brother was a mutant too, same mutations actually. And contrary to what you believe, I do not know everything, because I don't know who killed your brother. I have an idea, but…" he shrugged, "if I was a betting man, I'd say it was John Senior, your grandfather." He looked over at me, but I wasn't fallin' for it this time. He sighed an' went on. "Anyway, your mother was already pretty crazy, she'd been there when your brother manifested and got hurt. When she saw you with the same thing, it drove her over the edge and she took her own life." He placed a hand on my shoulder an' I had to resist pushin' it away. "Logan, even if she hadn't done it herself, Tom Logan would have done it for her. Or something else would have sent her over. Really, it was only a matter of time. I'm sorry."

I sighed, feelin' mortally tired o' it all. Which was actually kinda funny, since I was dyin' anyway. I buried my face in my hands, not wantin' to hear anymore an' hopin' Jim would just go away. He didn't say anythin' for a long time, but I knew he was still there. But somethin' finally occurred to me an' I looked up. "Rose. What happened to Rose, was she ok?"

"Ha! I knew you'd want to see more!" He grabbed my arm an' the Howlett estate faded away.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Marie sneaked out of her room a few hours later, unable to sleep due to the memories that were running around her head courtesy of Logan. None of them made any sense to her, fragmented as they were, but the overwhelming sense of horror and helplessness that accompanied them pretty much guaranteed that she'd never sleep again – or at least not for a very long time. However, the enhanced senses she now had made sneaking out a breeze. She could hear that everyone who shared this hallway with her were deeply asleep – she had no idea John snored that loud before – and by stretching her hearing just a little, she could hear Dr. Grey puttering around in the kitchen making tea. Perfect.

She slipped carefully down the stairs to the first floor, bypassing the elevator in favor of the stairs that led to the lower level. Again, she could blame the Logan in her head for that, a faint whisper that told her to take the quieter route to avoid being detected. She hadn't really probed everything that had been dumped into her head yet, partly because she was afraid of it but mostly because it felt kind of voyeuristic to do that. Those were Logan's memories and she didn't feel right poking into them. But some of them weren't memory so much as instinct, behaviors that were repeated so often that Logan was probably not even aware that he did them anymore. Like walking into a room and immediately sussing out the different ways to get out, the strengths and weaknesses of the people in there, the different things that would make a fight interesting if one were to break out, items that could potentially become weapons if the need arose. Without the Logan in her head, it would normally take Marie about ten minutes to get all that information squared away into something coherent – Logan did it in a single eyeblink. Not for the first time, Rogue wondered just who and what Logan used to be.

Marie padded carefully down the stairs, emerging in a featureless hallway that was all polished steel walls and bright white lights. She followed her nose – literally – to the infirmary, the scent a combination of disinfectant, sweat and thanks to the single patient in there right now, Logan. The doors slid open as she approached them and she gasped when she caught sight of him. She thought he'd looked bad when they were still on the jet, but if it was at all possible he looked even worse now. Bandages covered his chest and torso, while tubes snaked out of his arms to deliver fluids. His color was almost gray in the harsh light and the Logan in her head whispered 'I'm dying' even as she thought it herself. A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away impatiently. She walked over to the table slowly, pulling up a wheeled stool she found nearby and sat down. She reached over and tentatively took his hand in her own gloved one, taking care not to disturb the I.V. that was taped there.

"Hey Logan," she whispered, her voice a little husky, "I just thought I'd come down an' see how you were doin'." She wiped another stray tear away and watched his chest rise and fall as he breathed. The monitors behind him beeped steadily, which she was pretty sure was a good sign, but he still looked like he was barely holding on. "Now, I know what you gotta be thinkin' right now, 'cause I got pretty much all o' you in my head right now, but you gotta stop thinkin' it, all right? 'Cause ya made me a promise, remember? You said you'd take care o' me an' you can't do that if you die." She looked at him hopefully, but nothing had changed and she sighed. "I know the last thing you ever wanted was to be stuck with takin' care o' someone else, but you have to know that you did. Take care o' me, that is. I was dyin' up there in that machine but ya knew ya could save me no matter what happened. But it ain't worth you dyin' too, ya hear me? I ain't the only one who needs you 'round here. I think they all need you here, even if some of 'em don't wanna admit it. You got somethin' they don't have, somethin' they'll never understand in a million years. They all think that it's all gonna be ok for us someday, but you've been out there all this time, so you know that ain't true. You're kinda like the reality check they all needed, even if they didn't want it."

Logan continued to just lie there, machines beeping, his breathing steady, but otherwise completely oblivious to her presence. Two more fat tears slid down her cheeks and she dashed them away impatiently. "Now, I got a lotta you in my head right now an' I can tell that he's pretty pissed off at you. 'Cause you ain't the kind to give up, not ever. There's too much you still wanna know and have to do before you can do that. An' you gotta keep your promise to me, 'cause if you're not here to take care o' me, I don't know what I'll do." She leaned her head down and rested her forehead on the back of her own gloved hand. "So come on, you stubborn bastard, wake up. I need you, damn it."

"Rogue, what are you doing?" Marie started as Dr. Grey came into the infirmary, a cup of tea in her hand. "You should be in bed."

"I know, I'm sorry," Rogue replied, wiping off her face again. "But I just can't sleep, knowin' he's down here like this 'cause o' me. An' well, the stuff in his memories…"

Jean sighed. "Yeah, I can understand that." She crossed over to a small desk on the other side of the room and pulled out another wheeled chair, then took it over to where Logan and Marie were. "He kind of dared me to read his mind the other day and if his dreams are anything like what I saw…" She trailed off with a slight shudder. "I don't blame you for not sleeping. But you should still be in your room."

"Dr. Grey, please, let me stay here for a little while. I promise, I won't get in the way. I just…I can't leave him alone like this, not when it's my fault in the first place."

Jean frowned as she looked at the teenager, her emotions warring with her clinical side. She could tell the girl had some kind of emotional attachment to the man before them, but if it was a crush or something else was hard to say without violating her privacy. On the other hand, they did seem to have some kind of tenuous connection, even though they'd only known each other a few days. It wasn't too much of a surprise though, since the girl had absorbed Logan twice in as many days. Something like that was bound to inspire closeness of a sort. "Fine, you can stay for another fifteen minutes, but then you have to go back to your room. And if you want something to help you sleep, let me know and I'll see what I can do for you, all right?"

Marie nodded, clearly not entirely happy with the situation but knowing it was the best she would get right now. "All right. Thanks Dr. Grey." She turned back to Logan and resumed her vigil.

Jean checked the monitors and adjusted the flow on one of his I.V's before settling into her chair with her tea. Outwardly, she appeared perfectly calm, the very picture of clinical detachment, but her mind was another story. 'Logan, if you can hear me, please come back. Marie isn't the only one who would miss you if you were gone.'

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jim did whatever it was he did an' I found myself in the middle o' some kinda mining camp. I looked 'round, but nothin' stood out in my mind as familiar, so I turned back to him with a scowl. "Dahell is this about?"

"This is where Rose took you after the night your mutation manifested. Your grandfather pretty much disowned you and bribed her to get you out of his sight. It seems that the local authorities were blaming you and Rose for the death of Tom Logan as well as your mother and father, so she did the only thing she could think of and brought you here." He started walkin' towards a small building near the center o' the camp, leavin' me no choice but to follow. He once again ghosted through the door an' I thought 'bout walkin' away from him so I could go somewhere an' die in peace, but he reached through an' dragged me in after him. Sittin' at a desk was one o' the prettiest girls I've seen in my life – at least that I can remember. When she turned, I could see that it was Rose, all grown up. "Rose remembered her father telling her about these quarries and mining camps up here and she figured that the remoteness would hide you both better than anything. She started working here in the office, keeping their books in order, while you worked in the quarry. When the foreman asked her for your name, she told him you were her cousin, Logan."

Well, that at least explained why I always used that name, but I still snorted. "You tryin' to tell me that skinny kid actually made it up here?"

"He must have, since you're standing here with me now, relatively speaking. Besides, you didn't stay skinny for long."

I was about to ask what he meant by that when the door burst open. I turned with my fists clenched at my sides, an inch from poppin' my claws, but stopped when I saw who came in. It was…me, no doubt 'bout that, 'cept it was a much younger me. The man that stood there in front o' Rose didn't look anythin' like the skinny, sickly boy that I'd last seen at the Howlett estate. "Holy shit," I breathed.

"Yeah I know! It's amazing what a little hard, manual labor can do for a guy, eh?" I nodded absently, not listenin' to what Rose was sayin'. No matter that the proof was standin' before me, it was still kinda hard to believe that this guy was that same skinny kid.

But there was somethin' else I noticed an' I s'pose I shouldn't have been surprised by it. It was clear that I had been in love with her. "So why are we here anyway?"

"I'll show you." The scene twisted again an' we were on the side o' the mountain. From the rockfall all 'round us an' the way there were men diggin' frantically everywhere, there had been a cave-in. I didn't remember any o' this, but I'm smart enough to know that it wasn't likely anyone could survive that. I watched as the scene sped by, like a tape on fast forward, til it stopped on a big guy who was movin' rocks with his bare hands long after everyone else seemed to give up. "That's Smitty, the foreman. He put you on the demolition team just a few weeks before this. What he didn't know was that Cookie, the cook for the camp, had a huge vendetta against you, though no one knew why. Anyway, he cut the fuses on some of the dynamite and that didn't give you enough time to get away before the whole thing blew."

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, watchin' as Smitty worked like a man possessed. Off to the side I could see the covered forms of the men who hadn't survived the blast an' it seemed a miracle that anyone could. Anyone 'cept me, that is.

I dunno how much time went past, but a man finally came up to Smitty, his face streaked with grime an' sweat. "Smitty, come on. Ain't no way he's still alive in there!"

"You don't know that!" Smitty shouted, shiftin' another huge rock outta the way. "We haven't found him yet, he could still be alive!"

"Come on, you know better'n that! We can come back in the mornin' an' dig him out, give him a proper burial, but you gotta know there's no way he coulda survived that!"

"I have to try!" He kept diggin', even as the man tried to pry him away from the grim task, when suddenly a cry rose up from the other side o' the rockslide. Smitty dropped what he was doin' an' scrambled over the treacherous pile, runnin' to where a circle o' men with lanterns had just turned over one o' the heavy wheelbarrows that they used to haul the rock outta the quarry. Jim an' I followed him as though we were attached to him an' I watched as Smitty fell to his knees next to the wheelbarrow.

I moved 'round him to see what was there an' took a step back. There I was, lyin' there without a scratch on me, curled 'round a kid no older than ten who also looked unhurt. Jim came up beside me an' clapped a hand on my shoulder. "You saved that boy's life."

"Wouldn't have needed savin' if I wasn't here in the first place," I muttered. "You said that guy Cookie had it in for me an' that's why he cut the damn fuses."

"Logan, if hadn't been you, it would have been someone else. Cookie was just an evil, bitter man. No one liked him, he shorted rations all the time. If it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else and that boy wouldn't have survived."

"So what's so special 'bout him anyway?"

"Him? Nothing directly. But one of his descendants went on to make several significant breakthroughs in cancer research. Had he died, those discoveries wouldn't be made until much later and millions of people would have been without treatments that saved their lives."

I felt the strength go out o' my legs an' I collapsed on the ground next to where Smitty was now frozen over the prone forms of the past me an' that little kid. "You're shittin' me."

Jim shook his head. "Nope. You saved this boy and ultimately a lot of other people, just because of who and what you are."

It was too big, too much for me to take in. Jim was standin' there tellin' me I was somehow responsible for savin' more people than I could imagine, all 'cause I saved this one little kid. I shook my head, not wantin' to deal with it an' it jarred another thought loose. "Wait, we came here 'cause I wanted to know what happened to Rose."

"You're right, we did," he replied.

I waited for him to go on, but he didn't. I stood up an' glared at him. "So, what happened?"

Jim sighed an' started walkin' away, time movin' forward as we did so. We finally stopped in front o' a headstone with roses planted on either side of it an' I knew it was hers. "Months after the explosion, Rose and Smitty announced they were getting married. You were heartbroken - you were quite in love with her as I'm sure you could tell – but you ultimately knew that Smitty could give her a life that you couldn't, not at that point. He was selling off everything he had of value, desperately trying to get the money together so they could get out of here, but he was still a bit short. So, he signed up for a cage fight in hopes of winning the purse, about two hundred fifty dollars, which in those days was quite a lot of money."

"Lemme guess," I sighed, "I signed up too outta some misguided notion that I could prove myself the better man to Rose."

"Got it in one, my friend. But to get to the finals, you had to beat a lot of guys. In the semi-final, you were up against none other than Cookie himself."

"Why do I get the feelin' this is gonna end badly?"

"What, the semi-final? Hardly! You beat Cookie quite handily, which impressed the other guys in the camp. See, for the most part, you had trouble standing up to him, probably because you'd never had to stand up to anyone before in your life. After all, you'd been born into the wealthiest, most powerful family in your area, so the idea of having to stand up to someone with more power was pretty foreign to you. But Cookie stood in the way of what you really wanted out of that fight – to beat Smitty.

"Now, meanwhile back at the Howlett estate, your grandfather lay dying and for the first time in his miserable life, he regretted a decision he'd made. Miraculously, Dog had survived the attack that night, although he would sport three scars across his face for the rest of his life. Your grandfather didn't want his money or his estate to fall to the state, what with a lack of an heir and all, so he sent Dog to look for you and Rose. What your grandfather didn't know was that Dog wanted two things more than anything – revenge on you and Rose for himself. He was in love with her too and always had been."

"Now I _know_ this is gonna end badly," I muttered, turnin' away. "Just stop there, all right? I don't need to know anythin' else." I pointed to the grave in front of us. "I know she died before Smitty could get her outta here, otherwise she wouldn't be buried here."

Jim sighed and took my arm. The scene faded away an' we were back in the foggy gray place. "You're right, Logan, she did die before Smitty got her out. But for the record, you took a fall for Smitty so he could win the fight, but you made him promise to always take care of her or else you'd hunt him down yourself. Later that night, Dog found the camp and attacked you, but you'd done a pretty good job of forgetting about the night your father died. But Dog wasn't about to let that go, so he kept at you until it all came back to you and you remembered something really important – Dog was the one who killed your father, but for all those years you really thought you had done it."

My head snapped up an' I scowled at him. "Whattaya sayin', Jim? That I forgot all that on _purpose_?"

"The human mind is an amazing thing, Logan, and if it thinks that you're better off not knowing something, it'll bury it. So yes, you did. In fact, much of what you've forgotten you did so by choice. Not all of it, not by a longshot, but a good portion of it for certain."

"So what happened? Did Dog kill Rose?"

He shook his head. "No, he didn't. In fact, it's one of the few things that isn't really clear, not even to me." He shook his head again, lookin' for all the world like he ate somethin' that disagreed with him. "As soon as you realized that Dog really was the one who killed your father, you popped your claws and drew your hand back to finish him off. What you didn't know was that Rose was pushing her way through the crowd that had formed around you to try and stop you. Someone tripped her, Logan and she fell…"

My legs went weak again – I really didn't need him to finish. "She fell on my claws, didn't she? _I_ killed her."

"_No_, you didn't. I'm pretty sure it was Cookie who tripped her, but it happened so fast and there were so many people there. So if you're gonna blame someone, blame _him._"

I shook my head an' sat back down. "It was still my fault, Jim, can't you see that? Me, my claws, _my_ fuckin' fault!" I closed my eyes an' felt a strange warmth flow through me. "I'm just bad news to everyone, ain't I? Everyone I care 'bout always ends up dead." I sighed an' stretched back out, lettin' the weightless feelin' steal over me again. "So let's do the new people I care about a favor an' just let me fuckin' die, all right?"

* * *

**Please Review!**


	2. Chapter 2: Time Goes By

**Chapter 2: Time Goes By**

Marie's head shot up when one of the monitors suddenly gave a high-pitched scream that was like an ice pick through the brain, thanks to her still heightened hearing. Jean was up in a flash, her teacup tipping over and spilling its contents on the floor, unnoticed, as she rushed to Logan's side. "Dr. Grey, what's goin' on?" Rogue asked, her eyes wide with fear.

Jean didn't respond, but the blood drained from her face as she noticed that Logan's heart rate had dropped to zero. She bit back a curse as she slapped a button on the wall, which would summon Scott and Ororo to the infirmary to assist her if she needed it, then turned to the defibrillator and prepared to charge it. At the last second, she drew her hand away.

This didn't escape Marie's notice and she was on her feet and in Jean's face in a heartbeat. "What the fuck are you doin'? If he needs it, then just do it!"

"Rogue, I can't," Jean replied, her thoughts racing. "With all that metal in him, it could do more harm than good in his condition!" The doors slid open and Storm raced in with Scott hot on her heels. Jean immediately began issuing orders, telling Scott to get the epinephrine and having Storm make things ready in case they had to intubate. At the moment, CPR was out of the question. How does one perform chest compressions on a man whose skeleton is made of the hardest metal known to man? Even Piotr would be unable to create enough pressure to do it. The defibrillator was a last resort only, as she had already pointed out to Rogue. And because of his healing factor, there were no guarantees that the epinephrine would do any good. A last option occurred to her and she braced herself with a steadying breath. She'd never tried anything like this before and she could only hope she was up to the task.

She rushed to Logan's side and placed her hand on his chest. Scott tilted his head in confusion. "Jean, what are you doing?"

"We don't have many options here, so I'm going to try to massage his heart telekinetically." She replied as she closed her eyes.

"What? No! Jean, we can…"

"No, we can't!" She snapped, her eyes flying open. "Who's the doctor here? Now shut up and let me concentrate!" She closed her eyes again, so she missed the hurt expression that flowed over Scott's face as she tried to visualize what she was about to do. She reached out with her mind and felt her telekinesis form a cushion around the muscular organ that was far too still within his chest. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she gently squeezed, trying her best to mimic the rhythm his heart should have been maintaining on its own. Time lost all meaning as beads of sweat popped out on her forehead, her entire world narrowed to the task at hand. At the same time, she reached out to him telepathically. 'Logan, you bastard, don't do this to me! Come back, damn you! Come back or I'll kick your ass!' In the back of her mind, something stirred, a siren song that was irresistible. It seemed to fill her entire being and somehow, some way, it let her know that this was going to work. It steeled her resolve and she pushed a telekinetic jolt down the link she had formed between herself and Logan's heart, letting out a gasp of surprise when she felt it begin to beat again on its own.

Her eyes snapped open and she looked at the monitor, letting out a sigh of relief when it confirmed that he had returned to normal heart rhythm. The song receded in her mind and she felt a pang of longing at its loss. She lowered herself to the stool that Marie had vacated, suddenly drained. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up into Scott's face. "Scott, I'm sorry I snapped at you," she said tiredly.

He smiled softly. "Hey, it's all right. I shouldn't have second-guessed you." He looked over at Logan's comatose form and sighed. "You'd never think he'd try to go out so quietly, would you?"

Jean frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," Scott replied with a shrug. He watched for a moment as Storm put away the supplies they'd never used. "I mean, he's only been around what? Two days? But I can already tell that he's not the kind of guy to do anything by halves. If he's going to go out, it'll be in a fiery ball and he'll probably take a city block with him." He gestured to the table and the machines behind it. "But this? No, I don't know him well, but I do think this isn't the way it'll end for him."

"I hope you're right," Jean murmured and took Scott's hand in her own. "I really hope you're right."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I was just startin' to drift away when I heard Jean's voice all around me. "Logan, you bastard, don't do this to me! Come back, damn you! Come back or I'll kick your ass!"

'Sorry darlin', but it's time for me to go,' I thought back, the warm feelin' spreadin' faster through my body. I could feel myself fadin' away, goin' wherever it is that people like me go when it's all over, but before it could carry me away, Jim punched me.

I was on my feet in a flash. "Dahell did you do that for?" I shouted, my claws itching just beneath the flesh in my hands. "Can't you just let me go?"

"No I can't Logan," he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. "It's not your time."

"An' who decided that, huh? If what you showed me is true, I've been 'round way too long anyway."

"Look, I know what you're trying to do and it's not going to work. I know what you think about yourself and it simply isn't true."

"Really? An' just what might that be, huh? You think I'm some kinda do-gooder like those X-Men?" I shook my head an' turned away. "I ain't nothin' like those people. I've seen a lot o' shit in my day an' let me tell you, there's precious little worth savin' on that sorry planet. People ain't gonna change overnight, no matter what Chuck an' his little band o' heroes think. I got better things to do."

"Like dying?" He asked softly an' shook his head. "Logan, it isn't like you to just give up. You've got too much left to do before you go."

"Like hell I do. Sure, maybe some good's come from the things ya showed me, but I don't even remember any of it. All I've got is flashes o' people pumpin' me full o' this damn metal an' lots o' blood. For fifteen years I've been runnin' from somethin' I can't put a face to, can't name. But they did some bad shit to me an' good people don't wind up like that." I snorted, feelin' more bitter than usual an' stretched back out. "Well, I'm tired o' runnin', tired o' hidin'. If I'm as old as you say I am, then it's high time I left anyway."

"Nope, not gonna happen." He reached out an' grabbed my arm. "Come on, I have more to show you."

"Fuck off, I'm done with you!" But it was too late. The gray fog swirled 'round us an' we were fallin' again.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Marie scowled at the sunlight streaming through her bedroom window as though it offended her. It didn't seem right that it was such a beautiful day when they had almost lost Logan once and for all just a few hours before. Her roommates, Kitty Pryde and Jubilee, were already out of bed, only vague scents lingering in the air to indicate they'd been there at all. She rolled over and looked at her clock, not that she was too worried about the time. It was Saturday after all, so it wasn't like she would be late for classes. Still, she wanted to go downstairs and see if there was any change with Logan, so she rolled out of bed and got ready for the day.

She had just left her room and started down the hall when she all but ran into Storm. "Oh hey, sorry 'bout that. Guess I'm still wakin' up."

"It's all right Rogue," Storm replied with a small smile. "Got any plans for today?"

"Besides checkin' on Logan, not really. Why?"

"No reason. But some of the other kids were planning on going into town for a movie, I thought you might like to join them."

Marie shrugged. "I dunno. Doesn't seem right to leave with Logan still out like that."

Storm reached out and touched the girl's sleeve lightly. "Rogue, you shouldn't cut yourself off from the other kids just because…"

Rogue jerked her arm away and took a step back. "Don't tell me what to do! It's my god damn fault he's down there in the first place an' the least I can do is be there when he wakes up!"

"There's no guarantee he'll wake up today," Storm said quietly, with no need to add "or ever" to the end of the sentence. Marie knew better than anyone else here that if Logan didn't want to come back, he wouldn't. But even the Professor had said that he couldn't reach Logan's mind, so what chance did she have? But she had to have faith that he'd want to keep his promise, because it just seemed like the kind of thing he would do.

"I know that Storm, I really do. But I'm really not up to hangin' out with a bunch o' kids today anyway. Still got too much o' him runnin' 'round up here an' I think that many kids in one place kinda freaks him out."

Storm smiled and nodded knowingly. "He certainly does seem to be at a bit of a loss when it comes to that. All right then, I'll let Scott know to go ahead without you." She started to walk away, but paused at the head of the stairs. "It's a shame though. Bobby was really hoping you'd be coming along."

"Really?" Rogue felt a bit of color flood her face and she looked down. "Well, maybe I'll just go find him an' tell him myself why I don't wanna go. You know, just so he knows it's just a temporary Logan-in-my-head thing."

"Oh, of course." Storm's smile widened as she started down the stairs, leaving the blushing girl in the hallway. Marie simply stood there for a moment, her own teenaged thoughts warring with the still powerful presence of Logan. It would be a tricky thing to deal with that boy, that was for sure. She liked him, at least she thought she did, but she had strong feelings for the feral man lying comatose in the infirmary as well. However, if she allowed herself to think about it, it wasn't like she was in love with him or anything – hell, it didn't even feel like a regular crush. She figured it was to be expected, what with the man sacrificing himself to save her life. He was her hero and always would be, no matter what happened.

Still, the thought that he'd done that for her, a girl who was still mostly a stranger, made her wonder why he seemed so hell bent on pushing people away, when it seemed that deep inside he craved the company. The bit of Logan that was still whispering in her head confirmed that, but also added that he didn't think he should be allowed to be around other people, that bad shit always happened to the people around him. Much as she hated to admit that, it almost seemed he had a point. After all, he'd been with her when that Sabretooth attacked and got Logan's truck blown up, then again later when Magneto showed up on the train. But Magneto had been looking for her anyway and if Logan hadn't been there, she would most definitely be dead by now, probably along with the X-Men. And that's not even taking all those foreign dignitaries into consideration, who would have probably died like Senator Kelly by now, their remains neatly mopped up and not so much buried as poured into a grave quite literally. Logan gave his life to save her, but he saved so many others in the bargain. Marie knew he'd never see it that way though.

She sighed and made her way down to the lounge to look for Bobby. He seemed like a very nice boy and if she was going to be honest with herself, she kind of liked him. But with all this Logan in her head, she didn't think it was fair to him. Better to let him know it would be a little while before she was more or less alone up there. Not only would it give her a chance to put that inner Logan away, it would allow her to get to know Bobby a little better. After all, she was untouchable and if that was going to be a problem for him, better she found out sooner rather than later.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I yanked my arm away from Jim an' popped my claws as soon as we came to rest. "Ya got some kinda death wish, bub?" I growled.

Jim stared for a second before breakin' into hysterical laughter. He was laughin' so hard he was doubled over, his face turnin' an unhealthy shade o' red. Not that I cared or anythin', since he was keepin' me from my own overdue death, but my claws still slid quietly away as I stood there scowlin'. "Death wish! Logan, you are one funny man!"

"I wasn't jokin'."

"I know, that's what makes it so damn funny!" It took him another coupla minutes to contain himself, but he finally did. "Logan, haven't you figured this out yet?"

"The only part that I give a god damn about is the part where I'm dyin' an' you won't let me."

"Come on, man! You're a smart guy. Think about it. If you really wanted to die, what outside force could possibly stop a stubborn son of a bitch like you?"

"I dunno. I've never died before that I know of."

"Precisely my point. See, I'm nothing supernatural or biblical or anything like that. I'm part of you, but I'm also part of everyone you've ever saved. Think of me as a kind of group consciousness given form and sent here with the express purpose of kicking your sorry ass until you realize that you're a good man."

"So you're s'posed to be my conscience?"

"Hell no, nothing like that. Your conscience is fine on its own. I'm just that part of you that you always try to deny, the part that tells you that you're not a bad person. If we were in a cartoon, I'd be the little angel sitting on your right shoulder."

"So does that mean I can expect a visit from the little devil me here in a bit?"

"Nope, there's no need. You're so convinced you're nothing but bad that he's probably sitting somewhere drinking a beer even as we speak. No, you listen to him far too much for your own good. I'm here now because this was the only time I got a chance to talk to you without all that other crap in the way. You're my captive audience and this show isn't over until I say it is."

"Great, just what I always wanted," I muttered an' looked 'round. We were in the middle o' some kinda beach, but it looked like part o' some kinda war zone. "So where the hell are we now?"

"Germany, about nineteen forty-four. The Nazis were everywhere, doing all their bad shit and you joined the Canadian army so you could get a piece of them."

"So what did I do between when Rose died an' now?"

"Well, you ran feral for a while, almost six years in fact, but Smitty actually chanced upon you one spring while he was hunting. You recognized him and he brought you back to the cabin he'd been living in and brought you back to normal – well, as normal as you ever get."

"Very funny."

"Yeah, I thought so. Anyway, he knew you were different, that you didn't get hurt, never got sick, but he didn't think it was anything bad. In fact, he felt that you might have been 'touched by God' for some higher purpose, but you never gave much thought to that. In a lot of ways, you were still afraid of what you were."

"At least some things haven't changed."

Jim rolled his eyes impatiently, but continued. "Anyway, when Smitty died, he left you the cabin, but you didn't want to stay there so you wandered around a lot, taking odd jobs when you needed money but mostly staying away from people whenever you could." He started walkin' 'cross the beach an' the scene finally unfroze. "Anyway, through your travels, you learned to speak quite a few languages, but it was the fact that you're fluent in French that got you sent here."

Wait a minute. Nineteen forty-four, fluent in French, standin' on a beach. "This is D-Day, isn't it?"

"You got it." He strolled 'cross the battlefield, not even flinchin' when a shell exploded near him or a soldier got cut down in a hail of bullets. I didn't have much choice but to follow him. "Your unit was down at this end," he shouted over the din, "but a good chunk of them were cut down before they made it very far. But you managed to drag a good dozen of them to some kind of cover and got a medic to take care of them before you disappeared."

"What?" I looked to where he was pointin' an' there I was, lookin' pretty much the same as I do now, draggin' one guy after another behind a rock formation near the tide line. I grabbed a medic an' shoved him down to take care o' the guys I just saved. He shouted somethin' to me, but I didn't hear him any better now than I did then. I took off into the smoke, head down an' hands fisted which only meant one thing to me. Someone was gonna die an' it wasn't gonna be pretty. "What'd I do?"

"Well, no one in your unit knew for certain, but the medic was sure you were dead. He saw you get hit by at least five rounds and a mortar went off less than eight feet away from you before he lost sight of you. He saved all the men you'd dragged to safety, but had given you up for lost. Three days later, you came stumbling back into the camp, your uniform torn and bloody, but you were completely unharmed." I hadn't noticed the shift in time, but I s'pose I shoulda expected it, 'cause now we were standin' in what was obviously a M.A.S.H. unit of some variety. "Now, the Germans didn't like to announce their defeats, but rumor had it that they lost five units of Nazi soldiers in that three-day period. It was eventually attributed to some kind of animal attack, because many of the corpses appeared to have been mauled." He glanced at me with a kinda half smile on his face. "But I'm sure you can probably guess what really happened."

"I did. I happened to 'em." I turned away, but this was one case where I wasn't 'bout to feel bad 'bout somethin'. I've faced off with some psychos in my day, Sabretooth an' Magneto bein' the most recent, but they were small potatoes compared to the Nazis. "How many did I manage to take out in the end?"

"No one knows for sure, but you were also part of the liberation of the Netherlands. However, this is actually the beginning of the end of your career during the Second World War. You were also a prisoner in the Sobibor concentration camp for a while, but there's speculation that you allowed yourself to be captured and taken there."

"Sounds like somethin' I'd do," I said, still takin' in the wounded men around me.

"Quite right. The actual revolt at the camp is credited to a POW named Alexander Pechersky, but you were instrumental in getting as many out as you did. About six hundred people were there at the time and a little over half made it out. The rest of them died covering your escape, most of them were already so ill they never would have made it far anyway, so they did what they could to get the rest of you out."

"What happened to the rest of 'em?"

"Once you got outside, you split into six groups. Only about fifty people from the camp would survive til the end of the war, though. Some died in minefields around the camp, others were recaptured and killed by Germans or even Polish civilians. The rest died from disease, exhaustion or other injuries they already had from the camp. But of the fifty who made it through, most of them were with you." He put a hand on my shoulder an' I stopped myself from knockin' it away. "The ones you couldn't save were too sick to go on, Logan, so you can't blame yourself for that. But the ones you did save never forgot you and stories about the man who saved them are still told in their families to this day."

I grunted an' looked away, not really comfortable with this story. Here was this guy who claimed to be part o' me an' part o' everyone I've ever helped, tellin' me in no uncertain terms that I really was a hero. Sure, lots o' the guys in the German army might not have been Nazis by definition, just guys followin' orders, but anyone who carries out orders that include the wholesale murder o' millions o' people just for bein' different don't deserve the benefit o' the doubt in my eyes. I gotta admit though, the thought o' killin' Nazis an' savin' even one person from 'em made me feel pretty good. Not like a hero, it'd take more'n that to change how I felt 'bout the whole hero business, but it did give me a bit more perspective on things. Maybe everythin' I've done wasn't so bad after all.

I felt the shift in scenery an' when I looked up, we were in the middle o' a city. It looked like most o' the signs were in French, but I caught the sound o' a flag snappin' in the wind an' turned to see the familiar red an' white maple leaf. "Where are we, Quebec?" I asked.

"Good call," Jim replied an' started pushin' through the crowd. I followed him – what else could I do? – an' he was still talkin' like he expected it. "Montreal, to be exact. This is about sixteen years ago or so."

Sixteen years? "Jim, what are we doin' here?"

"Well, in the years since World War II, you wandered for a while, then met a wonderful woman named Silver Fox. The two of you were recruited into something called 'Team X', but it was a cover for something else."

My heart started poundin' in my chest – I just knew I didn't wanna hear the rest o' this, but somethin' told me I had to. "What?"

"Well, we'll get to that part. Anyway, eventually Team X was disbanded and the two of you settled into a cabin together somewhere in Alberta. But one of your ex-teammates had a grudge against you for some reason. On your birthday a few years later, he showed up at the cabin while you were gone and killed her."

The poundin' continued, but now with rage instead of fear. "Who did it?" I growled.

"Sabretooth, who I believe has been taken care of." I lowered my head an' wondered if I could find that asshole an' kill him again, just for the sheer hell of it. But then I remembered that I was dyin' here an' pushed it aside, but it took me a minute to realize that Jim was still talkin' to me. "Logan, are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, then turned to leave. "I'm done here, I don't need to know anythin' else. So I'm gonna go finish dyin', if you don't mind."

"Actually, I do mind," he said, grabbin' my arm. "You and Sabretooth go way back, but what he did to Silver Fox wasn't his idea. He was under the control of someone named Psi-Borg at the time. He was actually going to the cabin just to kick your ass."

"Oh that makes it so much better, thanks." I shrugged his arm off me an' stepped back. "Can't you see that you ain't really helpin' me change my mind here? So far, the only good thing I can see that I've done is kill a bunch o' Nazis an' save some people from one o' their damned death camps. So yeah, that's nice to know, but it don't change anythin'."

"It changes everything! Look, I don't know why Sabretooth has such a problem with you, ok? All I know is that every year on your birthday, he hunted you down for a knockdown, drag-out fight. But he was a rampaging psychopath in the first place."

"An' I'm so much better how? I killed Rose, might as well have killed my own mother an' you even said I ran feral for a long time after all o' that. Hell, the only reason killin' them Nazis is all right is 'cause, well, they were Nazis. I coulda just as easily been workin' _for_ 'em an' killin' other people. It's all a matter o' circumstances."

"No, it isn't. I told you before, I can't lie to you here. You and Sabretooth have a lot in common, I'll give you that – you both have healing factors, enhanced senses and strength – but you have always tried your best to control your feral berserker side, while he embraced it. There's a reason he looks more like an animal than a man and that's because that's what he wants to be."

"Listen, I'm sick o' your high an' mighty 'you're really a good person' bullshit. How many times do I have to tell ya that I ain't a good person?" I turned away from him an' looked 'round the busy square. "Good people don't get cut open an' butchered like I did. I don't know what I did to have that happen to me, but it did an' nothin' can change that."

"You're right about that part. I can't take you back in time and make it not happen. But you've had a huge impact on the lives of those around you and it makes itself felt every day." I narrowed my eyes an' snorted, still tryin' to get away from this guy an' failin'. "Yes, you've killed a lot of people. I don't know if you even realize how many. But the people you saved because of it, whether they know it or not, they owe you their lives."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Come with me and I'll show you."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Is there any change?" Charles asked as he glided into the infirmary.

Jean looked up, dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. "No, but at least he hasn't arrested again, so that's a plus."

"Indeed." He steered his wheelchair over to Jean's desk and took her hand when he came to a stop. "Jean, you need to get some rest. You look tired."

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "I can't Charles, not while he's still like this."

"You're no good to anyone here if you don't at least try to get some sleep. Don't worry, I'll watch over him for a while and call you if there's any change."

She glanced over to the comatose figure and bit her lip. "I don't know. I just…Charles, what if Rogue's right? What if he's not coming back because he really doesn't want to?"

"Jean, we don't know what's going on in his mind right now. He's too far away for even me to reach and there's no guarantee that he'll remember when he wakes up."

"IF he wakes up, you mean." She stood and crossed over the table on which he lay, checking the monitors and I.V.'s. "I don't know Charles, I don't like the way this feels. I hate to believe that Rogue's right about this, but medically speaking, I can find no reason for him not to be awake right now. It's been almost two days."

"Have his injuries healed?"

"Not completely, no. They're much better than they were yesterday, but he normally heals a lot faster than this."

"Give it time, Jean. His healing factor is probably still crippled due to what he did for Rogue. I'm relatively certain that once it kicks back in, he'll be up and around in no time."

"I suppose." She stifled a yawn and looked at her watch. "All right, I'll go take a nap, but promise you'll wake me up in four hours."

"Very well." He positioned himself behind the desk and took up the vigil. He watched as his most promising student left the infirmary, then turned to the enigma lying across the room. He knew that Jean had read the man's mind, but she'd really only skimmed surface. However, even that brief contact had allowed her to learn that this man was much more than he seemed to be. On the surface, he projected a tough attitude meant to keep people at bay, but deep inside lay a man with a deep sense of honor, yet haunted by ghosts he couldn't even remember. But Xavier understood that his mind had been fractured on purpose, an attempt to strip away the humanity and leave a creature that operated only on base instinct. What he didn't know was if he should tell Logan what he knew, or allow his own mind to heal and learn the truth for itself.

For the moment, he would be happy if the man simply made it through another night.

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**AN:** Yeah, i don't see any reason to prolong this story too much, so as promised, here's another chapter, uploaded as soon as i had space for it...:) Special thanks to my beta reader, Turiel Tincdaniel, for everything she's done on all my stories...you're the best, sis! Extra Special thanks for my readers...and Super Special thanks to my reviewers on this one, who were Dee (MidLifeCrisis) and Sami Jones...:) Dee: Have you finished it yet, or are you waiting for it here? Sami: Thanks for the review! Taking notes?? Is there something i can help you with?

**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3: Beginning of the End

**Special Note:** Much of the information in this chapter can be found in the prose novelization of "Wolverine: Weapon X" by Marc Cerasini...some small bits of dialogue can be found in both the prose and the graphic novel (by Barry Windsor-Smith)...i can not claim originality when it comes to the things Logan learns from Jim in this chapter, but the parts not dealing with him specifically are still all mine...:)

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**Chapter 3 – Beginning of the End**

Jim started walkin' again an' no matter how much I tried to resist, I followed anyway. I guess 'cause he was technically part o' me, I didn't have much choice, but damned if I didn't try anyway. O' course, that thought was damned ironic. Seems that no matter what else is goin' on, fightin' myself is the one thing I'll never give up on. I ain't got a lotta memories, but I have a feelin' that's been true for even longer'n I can remember. Prob'ly explains a helluva lot 'bout me, but this wasn't the time to think on it.

We came 'round a corner an' I saw myself stalkin' through the crowd, scannin' all the faces like I was lookin' for someone. A few minutes later, a figure in dark clothes broke from a larger crowd an' ran, with me hot on his heels. "What's goin' on here?"

"That's guy's name is René St. Exeter," Jim began as the scenario froze again. "After Silver Fox died, you wandered quite a bit, spent some time in Japan, Madripoor, a couple other places, before going back to Canada and joining the Special Forces. You got sent on a mission to North Korea with another guy named Neil Langram and something went wrong."

I growled an' looked away, gettin' tired o' this theme. "Lemme guess, I went wrong, right?"

"Actually no, it wasn't you at all. You ran into a detective from the Japanese police there, Miko Katana, and you teamed up with her to get into the base. Langram had already been captured by the time you got in there, which is a far more interesting story than I have time for. But she was there to find her father, who was some kind of rocket scientist. The North Koreans had kidnapped him and were trying to force him to invent a delivery system for the chemical weapons they were developing at that base."

"So what the hell were we doin' there?"

"Really, you were only supposed to gather intel, find out how far they'd gotten then take the information back to Canada with you. But you and Miko wound up getting pinned down by hostile forces, so you did a typically Logan thing and put yourself in harm's way so she could get away." He went on to explain how I confronted an armored truck armed with only a pistol, then proceeded to get inside before they could warn anyone an' I killed everyone in there. The transport went into the lake an' I barely managed to get out, but I eventually found my way back to where Miko was waitin' for me. But the victory was short-lived, as I wound up gettin' captured anyway an' taken to the base. They tossed me into a cell with Langram an' once we figured out what was goin' on, we started tryin' to figure a way to get out.

But we didn't really need to worry 'bout that, 'cause Miko was still out there somewhere, somethin' I'd forgotten all 'bout. So I was a bit surprised when she showed up to spring us, an' we covered her as she tried to find us a way back outside. But on the way, we came 'cross her father, his arms an' legs broken, already on his way to dyin'. Knowin' we'd never get out if he came with us, he insisted his daughter kill him, so to preserve his honor. As I listened, I didn't need to see it to know she wouldn't have wanted to. But as a follower of Bushido, the samurai code, she had no choice.

In the end, it didn't matter. I would be the only one who got outta there anyway, thanks to this damned curse o' mine. Langram an' Miko were both killed right in front o' me an' I just snapped, killin' every North Korean who got near me, their bullets completely ineffective. When I got back to Canada, they were thankful for the intel, but it didn't stop 'em from givin' me the boot anyway.

"…So, after that you got into some mercenary work, a little arms dealing." I scowled at him, not likin' the sound o' that at all. "Hey, don't worry. You didn't serve as anything more than a middle man and you always tried to make sure you didn't sell to anyone that planned to use the weapons on Canadian soil."

"Oh, that makes it so much better, bub," I snarled, tryin' to walk away, but he caught my arm an' dragged me back again. "Let go o' me or I'm gonna cut that off."

"Piss off, Logan and just listen, all right? Yeah, arms dealing isn't a great way to make a living, but you had to do _something_. And with your prior experience, you had plenty of contacts. I'm not gonna argue the morality of that decision with you, that's not why we're here."

"No, I got why we're here. This is my fucked up head makin' up its own version of 'It's a Wonderful Life'. Call it 'The Wolverine Edition' or 'Life Ain't So Bad' or whatever, but none o' this is happenin'. I'm dyin', my brain's pro'bly sufferin' from lack o' oxygen an' this is all some fucked up hallucination. I got no reason to believe a damn word ya say!"

"No, you don't. Except that deep down, you know I'm not lying to you. And even if I'm not exactly real, you can't deny that some - _most _- of this feels right, even if you don't remember it."

I scowled an' looked away, not wantin' to admit to this asshole that he was right. Somethin' 'bout all o' this rang true to me, even if I couldn't explain why. Somethin' told me it really was all true. "Okay, so say for one second that I believe ya. What's this gotta do with what I'm doin' now?"

He threw up his hands in frustration. "_Everything_! I'm not here to blow sunshine up your kilt or try and make you believe that you've always been a perfect human being! That's the point, you idiot!"

"What, that I ain't perfect?" I snorted an' turned away again. "I coulda told ya that an' saved ya all this trouble."

"No, it doesn't work that way. You seem to think that you've always been something horrible. All I'm trying to show is that you've always been _human_. You've done great things and you've done terrible things, but who hasn't? It's the fact that you've always come back from it and tried to do the right thing that makes you such a great man, not your mutation and not the fact that other people think you're great. After all the shit you've been through, starting way back with watching your father die, some part of you still thinks that people are worth the effort. How do you explain Rogue?"

I stopped an' glared at him over my shoulder, my claws itchin' just under the skin. "She's got nothin' to do with this," I said as I turned to face him.

"She's got _everything _to do with this! Why'd you do it, Logan? Why did you save her, go after her at the train station…hell why did you even let her stay in your truck? You could have just left her there, but you didn't. Why?"

"What kinda asshole do ya think I am? She's just a kid for fuck's sake, I couldn't leave her on the side o' the road like that!" I closed my eyes, tryin' to get my anger under some kinda control. "An' I couldn't just let her leave the school, the streets ain't no place for pretty young girl on her own. An' before ya ask, I saved her 'cause I promised to take care o' her an' I don't go back on my word." Jim took a step towards me an' I popped my claws, pointin' at him with my right hand. "Don't come one step closer, ya hear me? I'm done with all o' this an' I'm done with you."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Marie waved at the van as it vanished down the long driveway, then turned and made her way back to the infirmary below the school. When the doors slid open, she was a bit surprised to see not Jean, but Xavier sitting there, keeping watch over Logan. "Oh, hey Professor. Where's Dr. Grey?"

"I decided to give her a much needed break," he replied, turning his chair to face the girl. "How are you holding up, Marie?"

She shrugged and took a seat on the stool that was still positioned near Logan's bed. "I'm all right, I guess. It's just weird, tryin' to figure out how much o' what's goin' on right now is me an' how much is him."

"If you like, I can assist you with separating out your mind from the memories of others."

"Uh, no not right now," she said with a slight shudder. "Logan…he doesn't much like telepaths. I think we better let him fade a bit more 'fore we try anythin' like that."

"Very well." He thumbed the control on his chair and wheeled towards the attached office just off the main infirmary. "I have a few things to take care of for now. If you need anything, I'll be right in there."

"Okay. Thanks Professor." He smiled at her and left her alone with the man who'd saved her. She took his hand in hers, frowning at the brown satin gloves that covered her skin. A fraction of a centimeter of cloth, but it felt like a mile to her. She'd never touch another living being with her bare skin again and she hated it. But the Logan in her head didn't think that was true, though she had no reason to believe him, so she tried to get the source to answer her again. "Hey Logan. I wish I knew what was goin' on with ya right now, 'cause I got a lot o' things I wanna ask ya an' the bit of you still in there ain't really the talkative type." The figure before her continued to stay stubbornly unconscious and she sighed. "Besides, I don't think I can keep talkin' him outta gettin' into your cigar stash much longer an' I don't think you'd like it if ya woke up an' found a bunch of 'em gone. An' what's up with that whole beer thing anyway? He says it don't do nothin' for ya, but ya drink it anyway. What's the point? It's nasty shit anyway." Logan didn't take the bait and she rested her chin on her hand. "Come on, old man, wake up. It's so borin' talkin' to ya like this. You're a lot more fun when you can answer me back."

She fell silent, keeping her eyes locked on his face for any sign of change, but after more than an hour of nothing happening, she gave up. "Well, I'm gonna go for now, all right? My ass is gettin' numb an' I'm starvin'. But I'm gonna come back later, all right? So ya better wake up soon 'cause ya still gotta keep your promise to me." She stood up, then chanced a quick peck on his cheek, barely any contact at all, and was pleased when she didn't feel any pull. "I'll see ya later, Logan."

She left the infirmary and the Professor came back out to take her place. He looked at the man in the bed and wondered yet again how much he should tell him, should he wake up. Charles had information, but he knew from experience that it wouldn't offer what Logan wanted the most, which was the key to his buried past. Perhaps if he pointed him in the right direction, he could find the answers for himself. Yes, that would be the best course of action. Decision made, he settled in and continued to watch and wait.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Logan, I know you're upset," Jim said, hands held in front o' him defensively, "but you have to hear me out."

"No, I don't," I growled as I advanced on him. "How long's it been out there, huh? A day? Two? You're the only thing keepin' me from dyin' an' I'm sick o' this game. So maybe if I kill ya, I can get on with it, understand?"

He shook his head an' lowered his hands. "No, I'm not the thing keeping you from dying. _You_ are. Or did you forget the part where I'm part of you?"

"Ya already said ya ain't my conscience, so if you ain't that, what are you? An' why can't ya just let me go?"

"If you must have a name for me, call me your memory, your humanity, all the stuff you thought you lost all rolled up into one package, along with the memories of those you've saved."

I stopped in my tracks, not quite believin' my ears. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"How do you think I know all of…this?" He asked, wavin' his arms about. "It's all coming from _you_, man! It's all in there, it's just buried so deep you can't remember it."

"An' you're tellin' me I buried it myself?"

"No, fuck no! And if you'd just put those things away and let me finish, you'd know where it went and how you might just be able to get it back." I let my claws slide away an' his shoulders relaxed. "That's better. Now where were we?" He looked 'round an' saw the guy tryin' to run away from me in the middle o' the crowd. "Oh yeah, St. Exeter. See that guy? He screwed you out of your money on an arms deal and tried to kill you. But see, he didn't know that you're a mutant, so he didn't know that a hand grenade wouldn't be enough to take you out. It took you awhile, but you eventually tracked him here."

The scene unfroze an' I watched as I ran the guy down an' beat him to a pulp 'fore finishin' him off with those claws o' bone that were apparently always there. Unfortunately, I did the deed in front o' 'bout seventy people an' there couldn't be any way I'd get away with this. But I walked away from the scene like it was no big deal an' before I could see anymore, we were back in the gray fog. "So what was the point o' that?"

"Believe it or not, you actually saved a whole lot of people that day. When you left the scene, you made an anonymous call to the authorities about the missiles you'd sold to him. When they raided his storage facility, they found those along with guns, grenades and a whole bunch of other stuff, set to go to somewhere in Latin America. But those weapons never got there and there's several thousand Latin American peasants and other natives who are alive today because of that, not to mention thousands of other people all over the world because you took that guy out."

"So when does it all balance out, huh? When do the lives I've saved make up for the ones I've taken?"

"It doesn't work that way and you know it. But the fact remains that with very few exceptions, you have never killed a single soul who didn't honestly deserve it. If you hadn't done it, someone else would have but not before they hurt so many more people. But you were in the right place at the right time to do what needed to be done."

"Then why do I feel like I ain't nothin' but a killin' machine, huh? Why is it so damned hard for me to look at people an' see more'n just potential targets to kill?"

"Well, that's where the next part of our journey comes in." He grabbed my arm an' I glared at him. "Come on, this is the last stop. After this, if you still want to die, I won't stand in your way, all right?"

"You swear?"

"I'll even let you kill me if it'll make you feel better."

I grunted, but looked away anyway. "Fine. Let's get this freak show over with."

He grinned again an' the gray fog gave way to a static image of me sittin' on a saggin' sofa pushed against the wall in a room so broken down an' sad that I had no problems believin' that I'd actually been there at some time. A green neon sign on the other side o' the rain-streaked window said a single word, "Prophecy". "Does this look familiar to you at all?" Jim asked.

I shook my head, but part o' me did kinda recognize it. Was it just its resemblance to all the other sad rooms I'd stayed in over the years? I looked all 'round, but nothin' really sprang to mind. "Not really, not in a specific sense at least. Why?"

The scene unfroze an' I watched as the other me in the room stood up, an empty whisky bottle clutched in my fist, an' went to the window. "Storm's comin'," he said, then looked down at the bottle. He seemed confused that it was empty an' just let it fall to the floor. He pressed his head against the glass, his fists clenched on either side o' his head. "A big one. Maybe _the_ big one, the one I been waitin' for." Outta nowhere, he slammed his fists into the glass an' the windows shattered, sprayin' glass an' rainwater all over him. He looked down an' watched as the cuts on his knuckles healed over.

Just as suddenly, the scenery changed an' we were standin' ankle deep in the snow outside a run-down shack o' a bar, next to a green car that looked like a Lotus Seven. "Dahell is this?"

"See, that's the funny part. Your memory started breaking down some time after the 'Prophecy'."

"What was that place anyway?"

"Kind of a place for indigent Christians, more or less a last stop before complete homelessness. You bluffed your way in and stayed there for a little over a month before winding up here."

"Why was I here?"

"You have a little place up in the Yukon. You figured you could stay there until the murder charge on you for killing St. Exeter was forgotten. After all, everyone who witnessed it described you as being in your mid-thirties, so you figured if you stayed out of the province for long enough, they'd figure you were already dead and you could excuse your resemblance as either coincidence or that the man who'd done it was a relative of some sort."

I nodded in agreement. That sounded just like somethin' I would do. "So I guess I just stopped here for a drink or somethin'?"

"Pretty much. It's what happened afterwards that led to everything else."

The door to the bar opened and out walked the other me, so wrapped up in his own bullshit that he didn't even pay attention to the four guys who left the bar right behind him. He climbed into the Lotus, but before he could turn the key, one o' the guys walked up right beside him. "Mr. Logan?"

Other me turned an' before he could say anythin', the guy lifted a weapon an' pulled the trigger. But instead o' the loud report of a bullet, a muffled sound like forced air came out an' a small metal dart hit him in the neck. He reached up an' plucked it out, then snarled an' jumped on the guy before he could get outta reach. The other three guys swarmed him an' he fought like fuckin' hell, but a few more darts later he was down, an' the guys cuffed an' shackled him 'fore tossin' him in the back of a black van an' speedin' away.

The scene changed again, but instead of the foggy grayness I'd gotten used to, everythin' 'round us was black. "Now what's goin' on?"

"That's where your memory ends for the next few months. Oh, there are flashes here and there, but nothing coherent, nothing that makes sense. Nothing until this." I felt that twistin', fallin' feelin' an' there I was, springin' up outta the tank, butt naked, claws flashin'.

I felt my gorge rise an' I fought it back. "Jim, I don't wanna see this."

"I'm sorry Logan, but you have to."

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**AN: **Special thanks to my beta reader, Turiel Tincdaniel, as always...:) Extra special thanks to everyone who's been reading...and Super Special thanks to my reviewers, who was bluebell on ch. 2, alone with Certh and an anonymous reviewer on ch. 1...thanks a million you guys!

**Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4: Revelations

**Special Note: **Portions of this chapter are taken in part from the movie and in part from the "Wolverine: Weapon X" graphic novel by Barry Windsor-Smith...other portions were taken from the end of the first X-Men movie...the rest of it is all me...:) Enjoy!

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**Chapter 4 – Revelations**

Jean had found it difficult to get to sleep, but once she was there she fell into uneasy dreams, all with the same theme to them. In one, she was trying desperately to bail water out of a small boat in the middle of a lake, but no matter how quickly she dumped it out, it kept rushing in. In another, she sat in an armchair next to a cozy fire, knitting what appeared to be a sweater, but something in the shadows just beyond the firelight had a hold of the other end of the yarn and kept unraveling it as she knitted. And yet another had her running down the hallway to the infirmary, where she knew Logan lay dying, but no matter how hard she ran, the end of the hall never came within reach. All of them left her feeling helpless, unable to stop the events that had been put into motion no matter what she did and she finally clawed her way to consciousness just to make them stop.

She sat up on the bed and ran nervous fingers through her hair. Only two hours had passed and she knew if she even tried to go back downstairs, Charles might bend his own rules regarding using his telepathy and make her sleep whether she wanted to or not. She heaved a great sigh and settled back on the bed, using every technique she knew to clear her mind and hopefully keep the dreams at bay.

But again, that wasn't to be and she found herself in a hallway of rough-hewn stone, but with electric lights flickering above her. She could hear the sound of voices somewhere ahead of her, so she moved forward, trying to see where she was. After a few steps, she became aware that the siren song was back, the song that had somehow helped her to bring Logan back from the brink of death and she wondered if there was a connection. The further she went, the louder the song became and she could almost feel it coursing through her and over her, warm and inviting, like flames that gave off a comforting heat but did not burn.

Suddenly, there was a bright flash and she found herself standing in the nightmare lab of Logan's memory. The scene was frozen at the point where he'd just emerged from the fluid in the tank, nude, his claws raised and poised to strike. Her hand went to her mouth when she saw all the apparatus around the tank, the huge injectors they'd used to bond the adamantium to his bones, other surgical instruments she couldn't see any reason for, the now useless restraints floating in the tank. As her eyes scanned the scene, she caught sight of other people in the room that didn't seem to belong and with a start, she realized one of them was Logan.

He noticed her at the same time. "Jean?" He asked and she felt a sense of growing horror coming from him. "You can't be here! You're not here!"

"Logan, what's going on?" She asked, coming around the tank towards him.

"No, get outta here!" He shouted, turning away from her. "I don't want you to see this!"

She noticed there was another man with him, tall and rail thin, hands shoved casually in his pockets. "Who's this?" She asked.

"No one. A hallucination. Get the fuck outta here."

"Aw Logan, is that any way to talk about me?" The man said, then held out his hand. "Call me Jim. You're Jean. How did you get here?"

"I don't know," she replied, trying hard to ignore the naked Logan rising from the tank. She gave Jim's hand a tentative shake, then reached out for the Logan next to him, but he flinched and she lowered her hand. "I was taking a nap, Charles more or less ordered me to sleep and I was just here."

"Hm, isn't that interesting?" Jim said blandly.

"Yeah, whatever," Logan said, then took Jean roughly by the arm and pulled her aside. "I ain't kiddin' darlin', I want ya outta here."

"But Logan, what is this place?" She asked, the siren song still growing inside her. "This is where they did it, isn't it?"

He let go of her arm and all the fight seemed to go out of him as his shoulders slumped and he looked down. "Yeah, it is. An' it's where I went insane an' did a bunch o' bad shit. I don't want ya to see this."

"Do you know what's happening out there right now?" She snapped and her eyes seemed to flare. "You're about an inch away from dying and nothing we do is helping! You went into cardiac arrest and if I hadn't used my telekinesis to bring you back, we'd be burying you right now! Rogue's beside herself, _blaming_ herself for putting you in this position!"

"I'm sorry!" He barked and she flinched. "Is that what ya wanna hear? Tell her I'm sorry, tell Chuck, tell everyone! I did what I had to do, all right? I gave that kid my word an' there was no way I was gonna let her die! But it's over now, got it? I'm sorry, but it's over. I'm done. I ain't worth the trouble."

The flare in Jean's eyes brightened and before she could stop herself, she slapped him. "Don't you fucking _dare!_" She shouted into his stunned face. "You didn't just save Rogue, you saved all those other people too! The foreign delegates, God only knows how many in New York City, _everyone_ that was on that statue! Damn it, Logan, we need you!"

"Who's 'we', Jean? The X-Men? Rogue? You?"

"This isn't about me! It's about everyone that you can help because of who you are!"

"Oh yeah? Ya wanna see who I am? Fine!" He spun her around, forcing her to look at the scene behind them. "Take a good look, darlin', an' we'll see how ya feel 'bout me when it's over!"

The scene suddenly unfroze and the other Logan, the one from the tank, lashed out with his claws at everything that moved. Men in uniform, in lab coats, nurses in scrubs, everyone fell beneath his claws in the lab. But it didn't stop there, as the Wolverine started fighting his way through the entire base, cutting and slashing at weapons, limbs and everything else in his way. By the time it was over, not a soul was left alive in the place, the walls and floors running with the blood of hundreds of people. The trio of observers were pulled inexorably along after the other Logan, watching as he paused in the same hallway Jean had first found herself, screaming in horror at the blades emerging from his hands. He ran to the end of the hall and pushed a door open onto a blinding whiteness, disappearing into the snow swirling on the other side.

Jean closed her eyes and when she opened them again, they were back in the lab as though the whole thing hadn't yet played out, the tableau of Wolverine emerging from the tank and the horrified victims frozen in time. She looked down and swallowed hard, pushing back the feelings of terror she'd felt through the whole thing. "Logan, that isn't you."

"YES IT IS!" He cried, grabbing her arms. "That is me! It's all that's _left_ o' me! I'm nothin' but a god damned killin' machine an' if that's the kinda person ya want hangin' 'round your fuckin' school, then you need help!"

Jean's temper flared again along with the fire in her eyes. "No, it's not you and saving Rogue should be all the proof you need of that! You're better than that, better than what they wanted to make of you and I do _not_ blame you for what you did to them!"

"How can ya say that, Jeannie? How can ya stand there an' tell me that killin' _them_ was okay, but out there in the real world you're preachin' for peace?" He spun her around and made her look at the scene once again. "_This_ is what they want for us, Jean. This really happened an' it'll happen again! People like this don't stop, they _can't_ be stopped! They wanna control us an' if they can't do that, they'll kill us." He let her go and stepped back. "I'm sorry I had to give ya a reality check like this, but this is what the world outside the walls o' Xavier's has in store for every mutant everywhere. I'm only one man, Jean. I can't save 'em all."

"But you can save some of them, Logan, if you're willing to try! If you give up, more people will die. You can rise above this, you don't have to live with it alone anymore!"

"Darlin', I've always been alone. Nothin' you can do or say is gonna change that."

"You don't have to be, not anymore! Let us help you, give us a chance!"

"Why, Jean? Why do ya give a shit anyway? You got your cozy little existence with your safe little fiancé, your little fantasy world where mutants an' everyone else sit 'round the fire singin' 'Kumbaya'. All I'm gonna do is prove to ya how wrong that is. So why do ya care?"

"Because you're strong, smart, you have talents…"

"No, Jean, none o' that bullshit. Why do ya care if I live or die?"

She looked down and bit her lip, then took a deep breath and faced him again. "Because Logan, there's only one of you. And there's something…I don't know…Logan I care because I don't want you to die. I don't know how else to say it, but I don't want you out of my life."

He looked into her eyes, still brightly burning, then laid a gentle hand on her cheek. "An' how do ya think Cyclops is gonna feel 'bout that?"

"I don't know, but this isn't about him, this is about you. I'm not ready for you to go and I know I'm not the only who feels that way."

"Tell me you want me to stay," he stated plainly, softly caressing her cheek with his thumb. "Tell me I matter to you and you want me to stay."

"Logan…"

"Tell me, Jean."

She gazed into his eyes and realized that this was the first time she'd truly seen him, just Logan, with no Wolverine lurking in the background. His eyes were full of pain, fear and loneliness and seeing them so naked made her heart clench in her chest. "Yes, you matter to me and I want you stay. Don't go, Logan. Don't die."

His mouth curled into a half-smile as he pulled her close and kissed her soundly. She responded immediately, her arms wrapping around him as she opened herself to him. He felt so real, so solid, even though she knew that none of this was happening, that she was curled up on her bed back at the mansion. But another part of her didn't care and she threw caution to the wind, knowing that she'd crossed a line she could never come back from and that part really didn't care at all.

The kiss seemed to last forever, but he eventually broke off. "You really mean that?"

She nodded and swallowed hard. "Yes, I really mean it. Stay."

He leaned in and kissed her again softly, just once. "I'll see what I can do."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I stepped away from Jean an' she faded away as though she'd never been there, like a ghost in the first mornin' light. The only proof I had that she'd really seen all o' this an' still wanted me was her scent still lingerin' in the air over the other smells in this chamber of horror. I turned to Jim an' he just shrugged. "Don't ask me, man. I'm just a messenger."

"You didn't bring her here?" I asked accusingly, not quite believin' that he didn't have somethin' to do with it.

"No, I didn't. I don't know how she got here. She shouldn't have been able to do that." He stuck his hands in his pockets an' looked 'round. "Hell, even Xavier couldn't get through to you and he's supposed to be more powerful than she is."

His comment surprised me, but I didn't have the time to worry 'bout what it meant. I shook my head an' held my arm out to him. "Get me the fuck outta here. I don't wanna see this anymore."

"Your wish is my command," he replied an' grabbed my arm, takin' us back to the foggy grayness. "So, you've decided to live."

"Not yet." I sat down on a wisp o' fog, which still seemed weird. "I mean, she's still got that Boy Scout o' hers, so it ain't like she'll be with me or anythin'."

"Does that really matter though? She wants you around and that's important. And she was right about everyone else too. They need you, Logan, more than they even know. And not just because you can fight or because you can heal from anything. They need you because you know what to expect from people, you know how to plan for anything on the fly and because they're not ready for the world. You can help them, make them ready for it." He sat down across from me an' crossed his legs. "You're in the right place at the right time to do some real good again, have a life to be proud of. You can help so many people with the X-Men, not just the occasional stray like Rogue."

I sighed an' dry-washed my face, mortally tired o' this trip. "I could bring a world o' hurt on 'em, ya know. Those people who did this to me? They're still out there, I know they are. Some of 'em had to have gotten away before I got outta the lab an' they have to know I escaped."

"Maybe, but you won't have to face that alone if it comes down to that. They can help you fight them, help you stop them once and for all."

I snorted. "How? They ain't ready to make any permanent decisions like that."

"Not yet, no. But they will be, eventually, if you're there to help them learn that some people really do need killing." He stood up an' gestured at me to stand as well. "Like anything else, it'll take time." He looked at a watch that I hadn't noticed before an' swore under his breath. "Look, I'm almost out of time here. Are you staying here or going back?"

"I dunno yet. Can I ask you a coupla things first?"

"You can ask, but I might not have answers."

I nodded, kinda expectin' that. "You said that I couldn't get to where I was goin' if I didn't know where I'd been. What'd ya mean by that?"

"Now understand this, okay? I can't tell you everything and I probably shouldn't tell you this much, but after all this, I'm willing to bend the rules." I nodded an' he stuck his hands in his pockets. "There's a lot of really shitty things about to happen out there for mutants. I can't tell you any specifics, but I can tell you that if you're not there to help out, it's going to end very badly for a whole lot more of them than if you _are_ there. You've been trying to stay away from other people for a long time because you feel like you don't belong around them, but now you're in a place to help them. And I don't just mean other mutants, but everyone." He shrugged an' smiled a little. "And if it makes you feel better, think of it as a chance to make up for whatever bad shit it is you think you've done."

"My chance to atone, huh?" I shook my head, but this time it was in defeat. "Fine, whatever."

"Anything else?"

"How much o' this am I gonna remember when I wake up?"

"See, that's the rub. You won't remember any of it." I glared at him an' a growl started deep in my chest. "Now hold on, it's not a bad thing, I swear!"

"So what was the point o' all o' this if ain't gonna remember anyway? Why torture me with my memories an' then take 'em away again?"

"You won't remember, but you will feel different. You'll feel like there's something worth living for, something worth fighting for and something worth waiting for."

"What the fuck's that s'posed to mean?"

"Wake up and find out."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jean rushed to the infirmary after waking from her nap, vague memories of a very intense dream involving Logan, and the lab where they'd augmented him and…she just couldn't remember the whole thing and it continued fading as she shook off the last vestiges of sleep. Charles looked up as she entered and smiled. "I was just about to call you," he said.

"What's happened?" She asked, pulling on her white lab coat. "Did something happen?"

"I'm not sure," he replied, thumbing the control on his chair. "His EKG had a sudden spike a few minutes ago, but it seems to have calmed down again. Also, the lacerations on his face seem to have healed completely since then."

She checked the monitors, but there didn't seem to be any change, though she did notice that his face was now free of cuts. "Well, maybe it was a glitch in the monitor. I'll have Scott look at it later."

"Very well." He glided to the doors, but paused before leaving the room. "Call me if you need any help."

"Will do, Charles. Thank you." The Professor smiled and left Jean alone in the infirmary.

With a sigh, she went to the cabinet next to his bed and pulled out fresh dressings for his wounds, wondering how much longer he was going to be comatose. Her clinical side knew that every hour he stayed under, his chances of coming out decreased. Sure, there had been miracles before, people waking up after years in a comatose state completely fine if a little confused, but those were few and far between. She lifted up the bandage on his chest, only to see completely healed flesh underneath. Her heart skipped a beat and she checked the other side with the same result. She ripped the dressing on his torso up and saw that those terrible wounds were gone as well. She ran her fingers lightly over the spot where his stomach had sported one of the ugliest wounds she'd ever seen, then gasped when Logan's hand came up to grasp hers. "Ah don't, that tickles," he whispered.

"Hey," she said with a smile, joy flooding through her entire being.

"Hey," he replied weakly.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fantastic."

She smiled, but sobered quickly. "That was a brave thing you did."

He furrowed his brow, but looked at her as he recalled what had happened. "Did it work?"

"Yeah, she's fine." He closed his eyes and sighed in relief, so glad that it hadn't been a vain gesture. "She took on a few of your more charming personality traits for a while," she continued and Logan laughed, but it trailed off into a cough, "but we lived through it." She smiled at him again. "I think she's a little taken with you."

He smirked, then looked deep in her eyes. "Yeah well, you can tell her my heart belongs to someone else."

Her smile faltered and her expression became serious. "You know, you and I…"

"How's the Professor?" He interrupted, not in the mood for a rejection so soon after waking up.

"He's good," she replied, sensing that he didn't want to hear anything about Scott right now.

"Good." She smiled again and he raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them softly.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

His brow furrowed in concentration and he shook his head slightly. "Cuttin' her outta that thing, touchin' her face. I thought she was dead when nothin' happened. Then somethin' 'bout a lot o' fog, but that's it." He reached over and started pulling sensors off his chest and Jean moved to remove the I.V. tubes. "How long have I been out?"

"Almost three days. It was pretty touch and go there in the beginning." She finished removing the tubes and started on the bandages. "You went into cardiac arrest and I had to do telekinetic CPR on you."

"You can do that?"

"Well, I wasn't sure it would work. I never tried it before, but I didn't want to use the defibrillator on you unless I had no other choice."

"Yeah, I can see where that woulda sucked." He sat up and shook his head as a wave of dizziness washed over him. "Well, can I go now?"

"I'd like to run a few tests, make sure everything's all right." He looked at her impatiently and she smiled. "Oh, who am I kidding? Of course you're all right. Fine, go, get a shower and some food. But I want you back here later for a full work up, got it?"

"Yes ma'am." He said with smirk and stood up. Another wave of dizziness went over him and she held out a steadying hand. He took it and after the moment had passed, he pulled her into a quick hug. "Thanks Jean, for not givin' up on me."

"How could I? I know we don't know each other well or anything but I'd like to think we're becoming friends at the very least."

"Oh, at the very least." He kissed her quickly on the cheek, then turned and left the infirmary.

On his way down the hall, he heard the Professor's voice echo through his mind. 'Logan, when you're ready, please meet me in the War Room.'

'What the...Chuck?' He thought, not sure how this whole telepathy worked when only one person could read minds.

He heard the telepath chuckle in his mind. 'Yes, its me Logan. Just think what you want to say and I will hear you.'

'You know how fucked up this is?'

'It may take some getting used to, but I have every confidence that you will adapt soon enough.' Logan scowled and wondered if he could mentally flip someone off, but decided it wouldn't be nearly as satisfying as the real thing. 'But I am glad that you're awake again. If you could please meet me in the War Room once you are ready, I have something I would like to show you.'

'No problem, Chuck. Meet ya there in an hour?'

'Very good.'

'What is it?'

'I think I might have a place for you to start looking for answers.'

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The End

* * *

**Final Note:** I would like to thank everyone who read and/or reviewed this story...it was a fun little piece to write and i'm glad i spent the time on it that i did...which, admittedly wasn't very much compared to my other works...:) Special thanks to my beta reader, Turiel Tincdaniel, who wondered why i sent this to beta in the first place...:) Extra Special thanks to the readers...and Super Swanky Special thanks to everyone who reviewed, but especially to TnTornado for his review on chapter 3! Mr. Tornado: I'm glad i could help to inform you on some of Wolvie's past...although i shamelessly admit that i inserted him into the WWII bit...but the part about Sobibor is more or less historically accurate otherwise...:)

**Thank you for playing!**


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